


The Cupid Office - Art

by Pimento, TheAllKnowingOwl



Series: Art and Art Drabbles [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Digital Painting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 15:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16789288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pimento/pseuds/Pimento, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAllKnowingOwl/pseuds/TheAllKnowingOwl





	The Cupid Office - Art

Read the story in all it's glory [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16789651/chapters/39403903)

PING.

A sheet of paper flew from the Heavenly Fax Machine on a desk in the Pearly City's own Cupid Office.

The cupid to whom the desk belonged frowned in confusion: it was the days leading up to the Apocalypse. All matches were being cut down because not many humans were expected to live. She herself had just been let go, because of the cuts being made in the Department.

So what was this? One last job before retirement and a short life in the Garrisons before she was inevitably cut down in the imminent battles?

Scanning the form, she felt a wry smile lift her lips.

Castiel, you sly bastard, she thought. Always knew you were a dark horse...

Grabbing her bow and quiver from the umbrella stand, she stuffed the piece of paper into her pocket,

The surface crunched together, the crumpled words reading:

CASTIEL (ANGEL) AND DEAN WINCHESTER (HUMAN, HUNTER).

Hal rubbed her upper arm reassuringly.

“Thank you,” she said beseechingly. “Really, I- I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Something indescribable passed over her friend’s face. Well, not really; Hal had seen it on enough humans’ faces to understand what it meant.

Still, it surprised her when Anna leaned down and pressed her lips against the cupid’s own, resolute in her conviction. Once a soldier, always a soldier.

“Despite his absence,” Joshua said calmly, a tinge of warm scolding in his voice. “Our Father wishes to tell you your match is going well, and he commends you fo-”

“But I’ve failed!” the cupid protested, jerking her head up in surprise. “They’re not together, and show no signs of ever rectifying that!”

“You know,” the cupid muttered, following Castiel onto the countless Greyhound bus of that day. “When I decided to follow you, I didn’t realise it would mean complete boredom and ridiculous repetition.”

Unsurprisingly, the angel didn’t reply, only leaning against the window more heavily. Not wanting to spend another trip in the luggage rail, the cupid dropped down next to him and examined the bane of her existence. Castiel’s face, despite the constant influx of grace, was beginning to look haggard and weary- the glaring white lights revealing all faults as the Greyhound sped away into the night.

He sighed, shifting in discomfort. Coco would have been surprised, if not for the constant, familiar and yet foreign warmth of the angel tablet. It pulsed again, and Castiel winced in pain, the heated stone shifting beneath his skin. The damn thing had been doing that a lot, the cupid mused, leaning against the stinking chair. She couldn’t afford to lose him, Coco reminded herself sleepily, blinking heavily. The aura of the stone was jamming the signal of the bond, cancelling it almost completely.

She might get a few winks in.

Just maybe…


End file.
